The room was silent. The battle was won, but the war raged on within their heads.

Buffy sat on the couch in her mother's living room. She stared straight ahead seeing nothing that was there, but a few things that weren't. She saw that Christmas Eve when the snow saved Angel from the sun. She saw Angel's face when he said 'I love you' and the way he said her name. Buffy closed her eyes to wipe the image away. All that she saw was the back of her eyelids, but she could feel him still. The way it felt when he kissed her in that old ice rink. Freezing air swirling around them giving way to the blazing heat between them. She felt his teeth in neck when she saved him from Faith's poison. The sudden pain was nothing to the pain she felt when she thought he couldn't be saved.

She was completely unaware of her mother sitting next to her, nursing a cup of tea. She didn't notice Giles who sat beside her, his tea long since forgotten on the coffee table. He too was having trouble seeing the world as it was. He instead saw Jenny. They way she teased him, the way she cared, the way she loved. She was avenged now. He could no longer feel the part of him that was Ripper clawing at the surface.

Willow and Xander were also invisible as they stood by the door. Willow wondered if Buffy would ever really recover from this. She wondered how long it would take to any better herself.

Xander thought of every time he'd been rude to Angel in his jealousy. He thought of how hurt he'd been when Cordelia dumped him on Valentine's Day and attempted to multiply it. He decided Buffy was likely feeling 10 times that bad.

Spike had disappeared as soon as they left the crypt. He now stood beside the bed and considered each speck of dust as though wondering what part of Angelus it had been. He had trouble sorting the feelings of loss from the feelings of relief.

Eventually, Xander and Willow left the Summer's residence. Xander offered to drive Willow home and Joyce wished them goodnight.

Joyce decided she would be more useful in the morning when she could make her daughter chocolate chip pancakes. She kissed Buffy on the forehead and receiving no response, told the frozen two that she was going to bed.

Giles finally broke the silence by saying, "I'm sorry."

Buffy seemed to wake slowly from her trance. "No you're not."

"No. I'm not. For the death of Angelus. I am, however, sorry for the pain you must be feeling. I know what Angel meant to you."

"No you don't. You think you know all about love, because you had Jenny. Because you're older and you've experienced things, but you don't know anything. If I had been in your situation... If it had been Angel who was killed by some monster... I would have stopped at nothing to see that bastard pay, but I would never have done what you did. That's not love, Giles.

Love is thinking only of that person while you push a stake through the heart of the monster that destroyed them. You were thinking of Jenny when you lied to me or when you tortured Spike. You were thinking of yourself and your own pain."

Giles was speechless, but he could feel his eyes start to tear up. He cleaned his glasses as Buffy stood.

"Lock the door on your way out," she said as she went upstairs.

Joyce called her work to inform them of a death in the family. She said she wouldn't be in for a few days while she mourned. What she meant is that she'd be busy convincing her daughter to eat something and get a bit of sunshine before she made herself sick.

She put on a pot of coffee for herself and made Buffy a cup of cocoa. She covered it whipped cream and took it upstairs hoping Buffy would wake for the promise of chocolate.

Even sleeping, Joyce could see the distress on her face. She looked like she was having a nightmare. Joyce sighed, she remembered what it was like when someone she was close to died. She'd had so many nightmares about their deaths. Mostly she'd dreamt about trying to save them and she failed every time. Being the slayer it had to be so much worse. She was born to save people and she couldn't save the person who meant the most to her.

Joyce set the warm mug on the bedside table and laid a gentle hand on Buffy's shoulder. "Buffy? Sweetheart, I made you cocoa." She stroked her daughter's hair and saw her slowly waking. "If you get up, I'll make pancakes."

"Blueberry or chocolate chip?" Buffy murmured, half awake.

Joyce smiled. "Whatever you like. I could even do both."

"Both is good."

"Not a problem. Drink your cocoa. I'll bring you breakfast."

"Bacon, too?" Buffy said as she slowly sat up.

"Sure."

Buffy wasn't feeling any less broken the morning after, but she was feeling more in control. A calm sort of numbness had settled over her. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched. She spotted her promised cup of cocoa sitting on the table beside her.

She stuck a finger in the whipped cream and licked it off. It was just sweet enough to make almost anything better so she ate most of it off her fingers and let the rest of it melt into her drink. She sipped her cocoa but it wasn't enough to warm her. It was as if her heart had turned to ice and was now radiating cold.

She could smell melting chocolate coming from down stairs and decided it couldn't hurt to eat in the kitchen. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could hear voices in the kitchen. At first she thought her mother must be on the phone, but then she heard a male voice respond.

She walked into the kitchen where she found Spike sitting at the counter island sipping his own cup of hot chocolate. Buffy was completely unready to deal with him, but refused to leave her mother sitting alone with him.

"Morning," the vampire said allowing a certain amount of gentleness into his voice. If he were human, Buffy might have believed that he cared she was in pain.

Buffy shot him a glare, but refused to speak to him. She stood at the end of the counter and simply stared at him. Joyce set a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of the stool next to Spike. Buffy rolled her eyes and sat down being careful not brush against Spike in the smallest way.

She picked up her fork and poked at a fat blueberry until it gushed dark purple fluid all over her pancake.

"How are you feeling?" Spike offered.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy snapped.

"I was coming to see if you were alright."

"Why do you care?"

"Buffy," Joyce scolded.

"I'm not hungry." Buffy jumped down from her stool and stormed upstairs. A moment later Spike was on her tail. He grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"What could you possibly want?" Buffy could feel the numbness deteriorating. Her voice was threatening to break on ever syllable as pain filled her chest and constricted her throat.

"I was truly just checking in on you. Honestly. I know how it feels loosing someone who means so much to you."

His eyes were sincere, but Buffy would never allow herself to completely trust him. She felt certain he out to gain something here and if he was looking for her trust or approval he wouldn't get it.

"How can you feel anything? You don't have a soul, Spike. You're just another demon." She tried to pull away and escape into her room, but he tugged her back.

"You listen well, Goldilocks. I have felt love and pain like you wouldn't believe. Don't tell me I can't feel when you wouldn't know anything about it. You're the biggest hypocrite on the planet. Falling in love with a vampire and then acting like he's somehow higher than the rest of us. A soul only gets you so far. He was never so different from Angelus. He may not have killed people, but he was just as twisted. Don't think for a second you know better than me what it is to be heartbroken."

He released her arm with a rough shove and disappeared downstairs. Buffy heard the front door slam as she stared after him in shock. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Joyce came running upstairs and stopped when she saw her daughter. "Buffy?" she called.

Buffy couldn't respond. Her throat was so tight she couldn't breathe and she found herself gasping. Joyce wrapped an arm around her and lead her back to her bed. Joyce held her in her arm as they lay together. Buffy felt like she was dying. Like she would never be able to breathe again. Joyce coaxed her to take deep breaths and eventually Buffy drifted to sleep.

Buffy didn't know where she was, but it was dark. There was a light ahead of her that seemed to be coming from some sort of fire. It was either very small or very far away. She couldn't be sure, but she started walking toward it. The closer she got, the more she could see. She could see faint outline all around her, but she couldn't see what they were.

The shapes seemed to be of uniform size and shape with a few here and there that broke the pattern. Several yards away was a tall sort of wall. There were breaks in the wall near the top where she could see the sky and she realized she was outside.

Her heart started to race as she got closer to the light. It was getting hotter as thought the source of light was caused by an active volcano.

She wasn't sure why she felt so afraid, but suddenly she was running. Toward the light, toward the heat. She thought her hair would burn right off. She never felt anything so hot.

The light seemed to engulf her as she got close enough to see it was a great bonfire. It was the size of a house in both height and length. It was almost as bright as the sun and she thought she'd go blind looking at it, but she couldn't help it.

Right in the core of the fire, in the exact center, was Angel. He was screaming and writhing, but he wasn't dying. He didn't even appear to be burning. He was just trapped in the flames. Buffy dove into the blaze after him, but it moved back. Every time she tried to reach him, it moved farther and father away until she was back where she started.

She woke up screaming his name.

Spike comes back that night and again the next. Buffy doesn't sleep anymore. The nightmares are too bad. So, Buffy's curled up on the couch when he walks in like he owns the place. She knows the sound of his boots and doesn't bother to turn around.

"Ever hear of knocking?" she asks him.

He strolls casually into the den. He was a vampire walking into a slayer's home without the slightest fear. He'd be proud of that if it made her look worse than it did him.

"Must be one of those useless things they teach you public school children."

Buffy almost smiled. She didn't bother asking what he wanted. He'd just lie and make up some lame story he probably prepared on the way over. She didn't know why he kept checking in on her, but she was glad not to be alone. Her friends and her mother, they didn't let her sit in silence or when they did, they made it feel awkward.

Spike didn't care if they talked. So he let her take the lead there. If she wanted to talk she would. If not, they would sit together until the sun threatened to touch the horizon.

So, they sat next to each other. Each was wrapped in their own thoughts. They took comfort in the presence of another being nearby, even if it was just that. Buffy let grief take over her mind while Spike like Buffy take over his.

She fought only when her mind conjured up images of Angel suffering in hell over what Angelus did. All because she put him there. Thinking of Angelus reminded her of something he'd said.

And the chip? If it wasn't for me you'd still be a poor neutered puppy. His voice resounded through her head.

"The chip?" she said aloud.

"Hmm?" Spike found it difficult to be pulled back to Earth after sitting there for what felt like hours.

"Angelus said he fixed you. He made you whole," her voice was quiet but steady.

Spike gestured as thought to wave it away. "That's just sire talk. Thinks he's so much higher than me. Well who's higher now?" he smirked.

"Don't lie to me. There was something going on between you two. You were hiding something from me."

"I didn't want you to know I was spending time with Angelus. That's all. I went to see him a few times." She could feel he was suddenly uncomfortable.

"No. There's something else. He took the chip out didn't he? He found someone to do it." Her voice didn't change.

There was silence for a moment. Then, "Yeah. He had it removed," his reply had an edge to it. Like he wanted to say more but held it back.

"So there's nothing stopping you from killing people." Buffy felt a part of her react to that. Most of her was still pretty numb, damaged, but there was something that was instantly poised to fight.

"There's you," he assured her.

Buffy knew that wasn't true. She'd always been afraid to fight Spike. It hadn't left her since the first time she saw him. She'd seen him fight now and he was so fast, he had a style that fit into her own. She'd picked up a few things she could use against him, but she didn't feel confident. He could keep her going until he wore here down. From there it only take a moments indecision, a wrong move, a misplaced kick. The only reason he never killed her was her friends and her mother. There was no way he didn't know that.

"So I'm supposed to babysit you? Keep you from hurting anyone."

"No. I'm used to living on animal blood. I don't have to stop that."

"What you get some wacky vampire craving?" She felt like she should be fighting this more, but she didn't have the will. Maybe she could tell him to leave. If he just left Sunnydale, she wouldn't have to worry about it.

"I can get bagged blood. From the hospital. They're always throwing out fresh stuff. They don't keep it long. I could even snag it before they take it in. No one would notice a bag or two gone missing."

"No. No human blood. That could be someone's life you're risking." She will her voice to regain it's strength. "If you so much as threaten a single life, Spike, I swear I will put a stake in you."

"Fair enough." Good. Maybe she could intimidate him into to being harmless. So long as he never knows...

They sat in silence again. Eventually, Spike got up an left without a word. Buffy realized he'd stayed the whole night. Even after that, he wanted to stay with her.